Dang nabbit, I’ve gone and played my clan game until the cows came home, and it’s 11:00 p.m. A rhythmic drip from the faucet hasn’t been tended to, I’m not in my peach-themed pajamas, and I’d like to be in bed studying Spanish.
I’m discouraged. My desire to get a treadmill is tainted by the probability that it will break down, thereby transforming it into a hunk of junk. I don’t like myself, which is adding to my feelings toward the workout machine. I don’t like the heftiness of my thighs, and the degree of physical inactivity.
But let’s move on to brighter pastures! Our house in Washington is one hundred percent closed and sold, and the money is in the bank. And that feels good. Because what I wanted to say but haven’t is the buyers are (insert bad names here). They are picky and threatening and unreasonable, and I’m grateful I will never have to put up with their antics again. My poor friend Hilary, aka our agent, and all they’ve put her through, and all she hasn’t shared. I feel bad. Dave’s idea is to send her flowers and a gift card for a nice meal out.
Dave just texted me, and he’s on the way home from the Atlanta Braves game. I have an hour and fifteen minutes more of alone time with the dripping faucet. As for Evelyn, she’s over with her cousin and I miss her.
Most of my day was spent working, but it was so enjoyable that it didn’t feel like work. Before starting, I helped unload the two U-Haul boxes with all our belongings. What would have taken an hour and a half between Dave and me only took thirty minutes with Maria, Hudson, Annaleigh, Evelyn, and two workers.
Five loads of dirt and the railings are on the house’s to-do list for tomorrow. This should pave the way for the driveway to be paved and for Greg to submit an occupancy permit.
When it’s done, hopefully, in the next two weeks, I’ll take a video and post it.
Sorry for such a short one, but I have a faucet, pjs, and Spanish to tend to. Later!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 